


Dazed and Confused

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Series: Dazed and Confused [1]
Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cop AU, Criminal Dean, Eventual Relationships, F/M, SPN - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-02-25 22:23:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13222446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67
Summary: Dean Winchester grew up wanting to be a cop. When he gets kicked out of the police academy on a fluke though, he turns to a life of crime. After breaking up with Dean and seeing him committing a crime in the act, the reader becomes an officer herself and eventually a detective. Four years after that day, the reader is sent undercover to figure out what Dean is up to. Only she has no idea how far Dean is willing to go to keep her from finding out the truth...





	1. Chapter 1

“Dean?” you asked, spotting him walk in the front door and cut through to the back of the apartment. “Dean what...you’re supposed to be at the academy, aren’t you? You got class until-”

“I flunked out,” said Dean, your scoff stopping him in his tracks. “You think I’m fucking joking about that?”

“Considering you’re top of your class, yeah, I think you’re playing some shitty prank or ditching class. Now what is-”

“I have a record apparently. I can’t be a police officer now,” said Dean, grabbing his gym bag from the floor and moving to the closet. “I was seventeen and in a car I didn’t know someone took form their dad without permission. They charged all of us for a stupid non-crime and if I ever see Gabe again, I’m gonna murder him.”

‘Dean...” you said, grabbing his arm, spinning him around. “Go back to the academy and explain-”

“I was forced to quit, Y/N. I got called out of class and into the dean’s office. If you have a record, you can’t be a cop. They thought I was hiding it but I didn’t even know I had one. No exceptions they said. My bag’s are in Baby” he said, shrugging you off. “I’m staying with Sam tonight.”

“Dean, baby, it’s gonna be okay. Maybe we can call your dad, he’s a detective. He knows-”

“Stop trying to make me feel better for once in my life!” he shouted, brushing past you and for the door. “Y/N, give me some space. I mean it.”

“We are talking about this once you cool off Dean. Until then you can have your space.”

 

**Two Months Later**

"What?” you asked quietly, too caught up at staring at the green eyes under the mask to think about the gun in his hands. His own were wide and he was quickly shoving you on the ground, standing over you.

“Say another word and I’ll kill you, understand?” he growled, not waiting for an answer before barking out other orders to people inside the bank.

You hadn’t seen or heard from Dean in almost two months. You gave him his day to vent and get it out that he wasn’t going to be a cop, that everything he’d worked for in school and college and the academy was all gone. 

When he finally came back around with a couple of moving boxes, he went  _off_ on you. You knew Dean’s head and knew that he didn’t mean what he said during a fight. Normally it was his way of getting you to back off. Nearly four years together and two with living together gave you a pretty good idea of when he was being mean for no reason.

But when he, the one guy you ever willingly told about the awful day...when he said it was  _your_  fault, you knew it was done. If he was so angry and bitter about not being a cop that he would rip open wounds that only got shut because of him, he wasn’t the man you thought he was.

Two months later seeing green eyes that looked so much like his, hearing a voice that was just a bit deeper than you were used to...you were almost positive the man in the ski mask and holding a gun at some poor bank teller was Dean Winchester.

He wasn’t there more than a minute, gone in a flash and barely enough time for you to register the build under the baggy hoodie and coat. 

“Hi, Sam,” you said, dialing him up as soon as you gave a statement to a cop. “You heard from your brother lately?”

“Uh no. He and I aren’t exactly talking right now,” said Sam, his voice hard. “I haven’t seen him in two months.”

“I think...” you said, walking away from the bank and climbing in your car. “I think your brother just robbed a fucking bank, Sam.”

“That’s not funny, Y/N,” said Sam.

“Neither was getting shoved around by a bank robber, Sam. I am 99% positive that it was Dean,” you said.

“Dean was pissed last time I saw him but he’s not a criminal, Y/N,” said Sam.

“I didn’t...I’m worried about the asshole, alright?” you said, Sam breathing heavy on the other end. “Oh, you think he’s an asshole too, Sammy.”

“What’d he say to you?” asked Sam.

“Shit I don’t want to talk about. I’m guessing he said crap about your mom?” you asked, Sam’s thick swallow coming through loud and clear. “He got kicked out of the academy and he lost his shit, which I get but Sam you know your mom was not your fault.”

“I know but he just had to...maybe he really did rob a bank,” said Sam, his floor creaking in the background. “I know, Kevin...I’ll run to study group in just a minute, okay?”

“Shit, it’s your finals week, isn’t it,” you said, running your hand over your face. “You don’t need this right now.”

“It’s alright, Y/N,” said Sam. “Swing by the house around eight. We can talk then.”

“No, you study, Sam. I’m sure I’m overreacting is all.”

 

**Four Years Later**

“Junior Detective Y/L/N,” said your partner, a hard ass with a nought soft center.

“Bobby,” you said with a smile up at him, his face in even more of a scowl than usual. “It’s not even nine in the morning. What’s shoved up-”

“You’ve been reassigned, kid,” said Bobby, your jaw dropping. “You think I want another snot nosed brat to train? Uh uh.”

“Where are they putting me?” you asked, getting up from your desk, following him down the hall to the conference room. “I didn’t put in for anything. I actually like being your partner. Bobby, I-”

“Special assignment is all chief would tell me,” said Bobby. 

“Y/N,” said the chief, waving you inside, holding up a hand for Bobby to wait outside.

“John, what in the world could you be putting her on that I can’t know about it?” asked Bobby.

“It’s need to know and you know what you need to,” said John, closing the door in his face. He pointed you to a seat, pulling down the blinds in the room. “You’re fidgeting, Y/L/N.”

“What’s going on that the most senior detective in the department can’t know about it?” you asked. 

“You’re the only person here who can do what I’m about to ask you,” said John, sliding over the lone file at the other end of the table. “I need you to keep this quiet. You’ll understand-”

“Dean,” you said, his face staring back when you opened the file. There was no arrest record apart from one when he was 17 but the things he was suspect in...

“Dean is...let’s just call it in deep shit and leave it at that,” said John, taking a seat beside you. “He’s dangerous. Never been convicted of anything. I’ve kept the rumors of what he does away from the department but...Dean’s made a name for himself elsewhere. Everything from petty theft to kidnapping, assualt...murder suspect.”

“John, why are you showing me this?” you asked, sliding the file away, not caring to see what happened to the man you once loved.

“I need you to go undercover,” said John, your head shaking. “You just had your secondary training a month ago and they said you’re one of the best they’ve seen. We both know you became a cop to figure out what the hell happened to him. This is our chance.”

“I became a cop so I wouldn’t feel scared again like in that bank,” you said, turning away. “In case you forget, your son broke up with  _me_. He said things to  _me_  that I can’t forgive. He would never in a million years buy that I forgot all that.”

“I’m not asking you go undercover as his girlfriend, Y/N. He’s a criminal. He’s in Washington, a small town, working something. We just need intel on what it is, that’s it,” said John.

“He knows me. He probably knows I’m a cop. I can’t just go undercover,” you said.

“So what if he knows you’re a cop? Tell him you quit if he asks,” said John.

“John...” you said, leaning back in your seat. “I can’t do it.”

“We don’t have a choice, Y/N. The feds said you’re the one. You pack up tonight.”

 

A week later you were in your new town with a population of two thousand people. You were barely there thirty seconds before half the people were bringing over plates of food. It didn’t take long for word to spread a new girl was around or for you to spot Dean after that.

“Leave,” he said as he walked past you on the street, not bothering to stop. 

“Dean,” you said, jogging back to catch up with him, catching his arm halfway down the block. “What-”

“If I see you again, you won’t like what happens next,” he said, shrugging you off.

About eight hours later, you realized you never really knew Dean Winchester at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

It didn’t take long in a town as small as Elk Ridge, Washington to figure out where Dean was staying. There were parts of the place that were laid out as you expected. Suburbia was near the one school. The main street housed almost all of the businesses. The lumber mill where probably most people worked was nestled near the east outskirts of town. There wasn’t a whole lot else there. If you wanted some peace and quiet, it was probably a quaint little place to stay.

Some homes were spread out far and wide though. The feds had set you up in place that made your college dorm room seem like a mansion, located on the west side of town. You had a few neighbors but they were nearly a mile down the road. It had plenty of privacy which was great for investigating but you weren’t a huge fan of the isolation personally.

Dean was to the north, in some old hunting cabin that he was slowly fixing up. At least that’s what Kat, the town gossip, told you. She’d always say hello to Dean when she saw him around and he was cordial back but he kept to himself for the most part. He worked at the mill and frequented the one garage that would special order car parts for him. For the most part though, you had no leads.

“Well,” you said, sitting in your car shortly after lunch, the sound of an Impala driving back towards the mill giving you an idea. “I don’t think you’ll mind if I do a little poking around, Dean.”

You drove to his place in less than ten minutes, seeing nothing in terms of security around the property. You parked your car a ways down the road and doubled back through the tree line and to the home. You went to the backdoor first and found it unlocked, opening straight into a laundry room that smelled of sweaty clothes.

“You really better not be some psychopath, Dean,” you mumbled, walking into his kitchen, finding it sparse but Dean had always liked to keep his spaces clean. You opened a cupboard, finding it crammed full, a smile on your face. “That’s more like it.”

“I told you to stay away,” said Dean, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You turned your head over your shoulder, Dean right behind you, arms crossed. You stood up, spinning around and finding his hand in your jacket, shoving you through the backdoor.

“Dean, I-”

“I told you to leave me alone,” he said, clenching his one hand, twisting his body back like…

You dodged most of the punch but Dean had some weight behind it, knocking you to the ground regardless as he grazed your cheek. You stared up at him, moving to hit him in the groin when he dodged, getting his feet under your legs and flipping you onto your stomach. His hand caught your jacket collar and started dragging you on the ground, pulling your hood over your face.

“Be quiet,” he grunted, moving one hand away for you in time to see him open a shed door and push you inside.

“Dean!” you shouted, throwing your shoulder against the door the second it shut, the metal not budging. You were barely there more than a minute before you heard the Impala in the background tearing out of there.  


**Lawrence, Kansas**

**Two Days Later**

“You’re off the case in case no one’s told you yet,” said John in the conference room at the station, sliding a cup of coffee over to you.

“I fucked up. I get it,” you said, staring at your statement for the hundredth time that morning. “I should resign.”

“You should take a leave of absence,” said John, taking the file away. “And go find Dean on your own.”

“Excuse me?” you said, John’s face hard set. “What-”

“He knew you were there. He had to. You checked in before you went to Dean’s place and somehow he randomly went home in the middle of his shift? I think he got tipped off. I don’t think we were ever supposed to catch Dean, kid. Just help give him a bigger rap sheet,” said John, leaning back in his seat. “Assaulted a detective. That’s not something people ignore. It gives him credibility for something bigger.”

“Yeah, and I’m the zodiac killer,” you said, John rolling his eyes. “Why would the feds-”

“Because we’re small town cops and they think we’re dumbasses,” said John. “Maybe we were but think about it. He saw you first on the street you said. An anonymous call came in saying where you were in that shed. He could have hurt you, killed you, but I think he’s the one that made sure you were found.”

“It’s too early in the day for a conspiracy theory, John,” you said, running your hands over your face, reaching for your coffee.

“Did Dean seem like the guy in his file?” asked John.

“Sorry, I didn’t think about it too much after he _punched me in the face_ ,” you growled.

“He could have killed you Y/N,” said John.

“You know what? I’m calling in sick today,” you said, standing up and storming out.

“Y/N,” he said, grabbing your arm in the hall.

“I am done with the Winchester family. Leave me the hell alone.”  
  


 

“Hey, open up,” Sam said for the tenth time that night, banging on your apartment door relentlessly. You growled as you got up from the couch and flung it open. “Good. You’re home.” 

“Go away Sam,” you said, trying to shut the door, Sam simply pushing it back open. You groaned and walked back inside, Sam shutting the door behind him, dropping a bag on your table.

“I got you some of those Italian dessert things you like,” said Sam, leaning over the back of your couch, rubbing your shoulders. “I heard Dad gave you shit at the station today.”

“Dean didn’t kill me so he _must_ be a good guy,” you said, glancing up at Sam, your swollen and bruised cheek on full display. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“You sarcasm is duly noted,” said Sam, moving around and taking a seat next to you. “You got scared again, didn’t you, with dad saying that stuff.”

“Fuck, Sam, is that why you’re here? You think I need a babysitter?” you spat back at him, Sam keeping his face soft.

“Not every Winchester is trying to be an asshole to you this week,” said Sam, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I’m sorry Dean scared you. I’m sorry my dad doesn’t understand that. He wants to believe that Dean is good so badly, he didn’t realize he was willing to let you get hurt along the way.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m taking his advice and taking a leave of absence while I figure out what to do with my life because I sure as shit suck at this job,” you said, grabbing a pillow but Sam ripping it away.

“Don’t hide. And don’t quit either. You like helping people, Y/N,” said Sam.

“I’m scared again, Sam. I can’t be scared and do my job. It doesn’t work that way. All thanks to your stupid jackass of a brother,” you said.

“Get pissed then. Shove it to Dean,” said Sam, your head cocking. “You heard me right. Catch him. He’s wanted now for an actual crime, right? Bring him in.”

“He’s your brother Sam,” you said.

“My brother who hurt us both badly, who did that to your face. You’re like my sister, Y/N. He doesn’t get to push us around and make us feel like crap anymore. We aren’t a pair of little kids,” said Sam.

“Alright,” you said with a sigh, Sam ruffling your hair. “You want to order a pizza and have one of our Dean bitch fests?”

“You read my mind.”  
  


It wasn’t until Sam was passed out on your couch and you were crawling into bed hours later that no matter which way this thing turned out, you knew you had to find Dean. You grabbed your phone, typing out an email to John, requesting your leave of absence while you got your head on straight.

A text popped up as you put the phone down, your eyes glued to it.

**_Meet me at the place I told you I loved you. 15 minutes._ **

You swallowed hard, knowing it could be from anyone, could be _meant_ for anyone.

**_The place you said it back._ **

“Fuck, Dean,” you said, running your hand through your hair, climbing out of bed. You tossed on jeans and a tee, pulling your jacket and sneakers on, staring at your bedside drawer. “Dammit.”

You opened it up, pulling out your gun and shoving it in the back of your pants, grabbing your phone and walking into your living room quietly. Sam was snoring heavily as you thought about waking him up. The thought quickly disappeared as you went past, slipping out of the apartment and out of the building.

It was cool, the streets quiet at nearly 3 in the morning. You were on edge the whole way down the few blocks to the park, walking as fast as possible towards the only playground in Lawrence. You didn’t spot him which was troubling. There was barely any cover there apart from the enclosed tower by the slide. He was either up there or you were early enough that you could use it for yourself.

A quiet whistle punched a gasp from you, your gun in your hands in the next second. You took a wide sweep, approaching over the bridge you remember falling off of and scraping up your knee as you laughed, climbing up the steps you’d sat on for hours talking with him…

You paused and took a deep breath, raising your gun up as you spun up the last step, staring into the dark tower top.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show,” said Dean, flicking a lighter on, a small light filling the space, showing his hard face, body sat in the corner all in black. “I’m not-”

“Turn around. Hands on your head. Cross your ankles,” you said, Dean staring blankly at you. “Now.”

“Am I being arrested?” he asked with a chuckle, setting the lighter down, crossing his arms.

“Yes. You have the right to remain-”

“I’ve been silent for four years. I’m getting tired of it to be honest,” he said, glancing at the empty spot across from him. “I figured this would be a safe place to meet up...considering you’re on leave now and everything, I don’t have to worry about keeping you up too late for work.”

“How do you-”

“We need to talk,” said Dean, nodding again. “If you want to cuff me to do that-”

“Turn around, hands behind your back,” you said, Dean glaring up but nodding his head. He did as told, his body more muscular than you remembered. You slid a pair of thick zip ties around his wrists, Dean turning back around as you backed up, sliding down into the spot nearby.

“You don’t need to keep pointing that gun at me,” said Dean. “I am cuffed.”

“Considering what happened last time I was with you, I’ll keep the gun out,” you said, Dean’s eyes flickering to your healing cheek, scrunching up his nose.

“Sorry for that,” said Dean. “I can’t be too careful nowadays.”

“Poor you,” you said, Dean straightening his shoulders. “Start talking.”

“How’s Sammy doing? He’s in his third year of law school, right?” asked Dean, your eyes blinking fast. “He’s okay?”

“Why do you give a shit about him?” you asked. “After what you said. It took him two years to tell me what you-”

“He’s my little brother. Of course I give a shit about him. You too. I never stopped,” said Dean, staring at your cheek. “You really don’t know how awful I feel about hitting you.”

“You got two minutes before I drag you down to the station,” you said, Dean leaning his head back against the plastic wall, wearing a sad smile.

“You became a cop. Junior Detective. Top of your class. Perfect scores on your exams. Your arrest record is flawless and you bring in bagels on Fridays from the shop on fourth with the little-”

“Are you a fucking stalker or what, Dean?” you asked, Dean shaking his head. 

“It’s how I knew you sent that email to dad,” said Dean, glancing down. “I...I didn’t get kicked out of the academy, Y/N. I...transferred if you want to think of it like that.”

“Transferred to what,” you growled, Dean scrunching up his face.

“Agent Winchester. FBI. Special Undercover Unit. It’s not really common knowledge it exists. We don’t go through the normal training academy. You work undercover so they keep you separate from almost everything. It’s why the FBI, the people I work for, sent you after me,” said Dean. “Well, they needed to build up my credibility but that’s not the point.”

“You’re saying you’re a federal agent,” you said, Dean nodding. “I’m Mary fucking Poppins while we’re at it.”

“How do you think I know shit I shouldn’t Y/N? I can hack into your computer, accounts. Your credit score is 740 by the way,” said Dean, cocking his head.

“You work for the government,” you said.

“I’ve been working one job for four years now, Y/N. I’ve done bad things but I’ve never hurt anyone. But I got a bit of a promotion recently and...somebody on my team is dirty. They’re working with the guy we’re trying to catch and I’m about to throw years of my life away to catch the dirtball. I need help. From someone I can trust,” said Dean.

“They teach officers to know when people are lying you know,” you said, Dean laughing. 

“Then you know I’m telling you the truth,” said Dean. “I had to cut myself off from my life and hurting you and Sammy was the one sure fire way to stop you two from coming after me. I’m not asking for forgiveness, Y/N. I just need to bring down this guy and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of your life.”

“Sam gets fucking _nightmares_ over the shit you said to him about your mom, Dean. You fucked him up. Both of us up,” you said. “Everyone you ever cared about over what? A job?” 

“I agreed to do this on one condition and only one fucking condition so you can back the fuck off,” spat back Dean, trying his best to relax. “The guy I’m trying to stop, the guy I’ve been trying to stop for four years? He’s the one that _killed_ our mother. I know I have done a lot of things but she deserves that the guy who killed her goes down. That is why I am doing this.”

“How can I believe any of this, Dean? How?” you asked. “What proof do you have?”

“If you don’t believe me, feel free to shoot me right here and now. Say whatever story you want, no one will care. Hell, dump my body if you want. I threw away everything to try and do the right thing for her, to stop this guy from doing it to someone else. If you think I’m nuts or making it up, go ahead and pull the trigger. I can’t do this on my own. Not when I can’t trust my team. I don’t deserve your help. But I’m begging for it, Y/N,” said Dean. “Just help me catch the son of a bitch.” 

“Was it you at the bank four years ago?” you asked, Dean nodding his head. “Why’d you say you’d kill me?”

“I thought you’d understand,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t a threat, Y/N. I knew once I saw you looking at me you’d figure out it was me. I was...don’t you remember that movie? We watched it a million times. The bank heist one. The undercover cop says it to his girlfriend at the bank...it was code that he’d make sure nothing happened to her, she’d be okay.”

“You expected me to remember a stupid movie scene during one of the most frightening moments of my life?” you barked, Dean shrugging. “I didn’t get that message, Dean.”

“I know. I know,” he said. “I couldn’t say, ‘hi honey, long time no see. I’m working this super secret undercover job and I gotta do some bad stuff for a little while but I love you and I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not the bad guy. Bye!’ It’s not how this works.” 

“What were you doing in Washington,” you said.

“Testing a theory. I was trying to figure out who on my team is responsible. Nobody showed any tells though so nothing came of it,” he said. “I didn’t know they’d put you on it. Hoped but couldn’t know for sure. You just went through your secondary undercover training so I played the odds on that one.”

You lowered your gun, letting it rest by your side, tucking your knees into your chest.

“It wasn’t your fault either,” he said, your chin resting on your knees, eyes darting over to meet his. “Telling you and Sam those things...that was one of the worst days of my life.”

“Why did we meet here Dean,” you said quietly, Dean smiling.

“This was stop number four on the best date ever. I told you I loved you for the first time over by those swings. You said it back when you remembered how to speak,” he said, staring at his lap. “Figured this place is lucky for me. Less odds of you shooting me on sight.”

“There are so many things I should do right now,” you said, grabbing your gun in one hand, his arm in the other.

“Y/N,” said Dean, a crack in his voice as you pulled him down the stairs and onto the wood chip covered ground below. “Please don’t turn me in. I have to…”

You snipped his zip ties, grabbed them and walked over to a nearby trash can, tossing them inside. Dean was staring slack jawed at you, stuck in place while you wandered over to the swings, taking a seat on one.

“Y/N,” said Dean, standing in front of you while you kicked at the ground.

“You know, Sam and I have this sort of vent session about you sometimes. We basically bitch about everything we hate about you,” you said, Dean gulping. “Every single time, just like the one we had tonight, we always end up talking about good memories and how we hope we’re both so wrong and that you’re still good and something crazy is going on. Now that’s it happening, I can’t believe it’s real.”

“Y/N, I’m-” said Dean, letting out a oomph before he hit the ground, your gaze moving from the ground upwards, Sam panting over Dean’s unconscious body.

“Sam what-”

“He’s a dumbass,” said Sam, bending down, tossing Dean over his shoulder. “We got to move to a secure location.”

“Sam! What is going on?” you asked, Sam nodding for you to follow. “Sam!”

“Dean’s a good guy, Y/N. Loyal to a fault. _To a fault, Y/N_. He’s getting setup,” said Sam, walking away from the playground, you hot on his tail.

“Sam,” you said, tugging on his arm.

“Dean’s got his facts wrong. He never should have dragged you into this,” said Sam. “But you’re in it now so you better come with us.”

“He had nowhere to turn he said. He-”

“The guy at the FBI Dean is investigating? It’s the guy who killed our mom. He works for them. He’s on the team Dean works on. He’s setting Dean up to take the fall for everything he’s ever done,” said Sam.

“How do you even know that?” you asked, a million more questions flooding your mind.

“Y/N. You weren’t the only one that went into law enforcement when Dean went off the rails,” said Sam, your head cocking, Sam breaking into a soft smile for a brief moment. “Agent Winchester. FBI. Internal Investigations.”

  



	3. Chapter 3

You kept your mouth shut as Sam dumped Dean in the backseat of his car. You kept it shut as Sam drove the three of you out of town to one of the nearby farms. You kept it shut as Sam pulled inside one of the rundown and abandoned places, grabbed Dean and put him down on top of a stray bale of hay.

But when Sam pulled out a pair of zip ties from his back pocket, you shoved him away from his brother.

“What the hell are those for?” you growled, standing in front of Dean, Sam sighing and running his hand through his hair.

“It’s for _our_ protection more than anything else,” said Sam. “He’s going to be swinging fists the second he wakes up.”

“And if he wakes up after his little brother just knocked him out _and_ tied him up, how good a mood do you think he’ll be in?” you asked, Sam’s face scrunching up before he purses his lips.

“Okay. I know you’re pissed off but-”

“I spent four years pissed at him, Sam. I turned to _you_ to help me through it. You’d be a little pissed too if you found out the _one guy_ you thought you could trust turned out to be lying to you for who knows how long,” you said, shoving on him again when he took a step forward. “Stay away from him, Sam.”

“Y/N, this isn’t…” said Sam, his eyes wandering behind you, Dean grunting to himself as he woke up. You turned around and found him sitting up with his hand on his head, blinking at Sam and rubbing a hand over his face.

“Great. You’re hallucinating, Winchester,” he said, shaking his head, catching your worried stare.

“Dean,” said Sam with a neutral face, your eyes drifting to Dean’s hand, clenched up in a fist. “Sorry about the head.”

“What’s going on?” asked Dean, looking around, something extremely small and vulnerable showing on his face. You wondered when the last time he was in the dark on something was. “Sammy before I-“

“Always had to shoot first, ask questions later, didn’t you Dean?” said Sam, leaning up on a hay bale not too far off. Dean squinted at him, mouth open and closing a few times, pressing his lips into a thin line after a moment. “You forget how to think on your own after all these years?”

“Fuck you,” said Dean, staring at his lap, closing his eyes. “My head is killing me and Y/N looks as confused as I feel so would you _please_ , Sam, explain what is happening?”

“Spark Notes version? Y/N called me after the bank incident. I got even more pissed and thought I’m going to shove it to you so hard. I thought something snapped in you and what better way to track you down than to be in law enforcement myself. I applied FBI, took a test, did an interview and they asked if I wanted to do internal investigations. I’m too nice for field work they said. It was fine with me and gave me access to shit even you don’t have, Dean. Two weeks in, I dug at your ‘arrest record’ and lo and behold, you’re a fucking FBI agent too. I mean, I was thrilled but then I wondered what case you were working that you were doing bank heists and stuff like that. Your team told you that you were building up your profile so you could get in with mom’s killer, right? Be like him and he’d come to you, take you under his wing, right? Well, that’s your story. Mine is different. Mom’s killer is on your team. He’s grooming you to take the fall, to show a pattern of committing crime and rip your story to shreds that you were ordered to do it. He’s going to pin it on you and you’d never even realize it,” said Sam, Dean blinking up at him. “The really short version? You work for the FBI. Someone told you a lie to get you to do shit that would make you look guilty. You fell for it. I’m trying to save your ass and on top of all that, you just dragged Y/N into this for no damn reason.”

“But you go to law school,” you said. “You take classes. You do homework. I’ve seen you working on projects and crap.”

“It’s my cover, Y/N,” said Sam, frowning when you glared at him. “Y/N…”

“Both of you...I should…” you said, storming around the barn, hands in your hair, turning around to face them with a snarl. “I hate you both so fucking much.”

You marched over, slapping Sam in the face, Dean closing his eyes while he waited for his turn.

“I think you’re off the hook,” said Sam, rubbing his cheek as you pointed at Dean.

“ _He_ has a concussion. _He_ might have lied but he didn’t do it to _my_ _face_ and pretend to care and be pissed and have nightmares and-”

“Y/N, I didn’t lie about that,” said Sam. “I knew Dean only said mom’s death was my fault for his cover after a couple of months but it still messed me up. It still hurts.”

“She wasn’t, Sammy,” said Dean, gulping from his seat. “She really wasn’t. Y/N...when you were younger, that wasn’t your fault either.”

“You said if I had gone straight home after school, I would have been able to protect her, Dean,” said Sam, shrugging his shoulders. “I would have...maybe I _could_ have-“

“You were a shrimpy ten year old Sam. No way you would have been able to stop him. You would have wound up like her,” said Dean. 

“I always thought that was the point. You’d rather I _had_ ended up like that,” said Sam.

“No Sam, never,” said Dean, his face losing its hardness, soft eyes looking over at his little brother.  “My whole life I’ve tried to protect you. I said that to screw with your head. It worked. Too well but it worked. Protecting mom was not your responsibility.”

“Finding her killer wasn’t yours, either,” said Sam, Dean staring at his lap quietly for a few moments.

“After I went off the radar, started doing stuff, how was dad?” asked Dean, fidgeting on the hay.

“I was at school at first and then went straight to training and work. I haven’t lived in that house in a long time,” said Sam, kicking at the ground. “He wasn’t too bad I guess. I kept away for the most part.”

“Y/N take care of you?” asked Dean, Sam nodding his head once.

“I crashed at her place for a while,” said Sam, kicking at the ground.

“Is your bro makeup moment over? Cause in case you two don’t _realize_ , something bigger than your little boy issues is going on,” you said, Dean whipping his head around to Sam. You knew you’d be angry but you didn’t realize quite how much until just now.

“Y/N, maybe if you just relax-”

“I don’t want to relax, Sam,” you said, pulling your gun out of your pants, aiming it at the ground. “I want…”

“She wasn’t this pissed earlier,” said Dean, Sam carefully taking a step over.

“Why don’t you put that down, Y/N and we-”

“No! I’m tired of you stupid Winchesters screwing up my life,” you said, rage rushing through you, hand fiddling with the safety. “It’s stopping. Tonight.”

“Y/N,” said Sam, quickly rushing over and snatching the gun from your hands. “What is…”

“Give that back, Samuel,” you said, hitting him in the groin, Sam doubling over as Dean caught your arm. “Back off!”

“You need to calm...she doesn’t do drugs, does she?” asked Dean, Sam’s head shaking. “Why are her pupils fucking huge then Sam?”

“I am not on drugs!” you shouted at him, Dean grabbing hold of both of your wrists, your blood boiling as you squirmed against his hold. “Let go, Dean!”

“I brought her these pastries earlier. It’s the only thing we didn’t both eat tonight. They were at my apartment before I went over to her place,” said Sam, getting back to his feet just in time for you to kick again.

“I’m pretty sure she’s drugged, Sam! This ain’t exactly normal,” said Dean as you ripped away from him. “Something pretty intense too.”

“I said to leave me…” you said, your pounding heart skipping a beat. “Leave me…” you said, the words catching on your throat.

“Sam, if whoever messed with the desserts put enough in their to take care of _you…_ ” said Dean, sliding his arms under you as you started to fall.

“It’s more than enough to kill her. I need to get her to a hospital,” said Sam, Dean shoving you in Sam’s arms. “Dean.”

“Your cover is broken. Maybe mine isn’t yet. Besides, I’m a wanted criminal. Take her, get her fixed and I’ll find a way to contact you,” said Dean, shoving the two of you towards the front of the barn. “Go!”

“You’re gonna be alright, Y/N,” said Sam as you started to squirm in his arms, everything aching and pulsing. “You’ll be alright.”  
  


 

**Three Days Later**

“Y/L/N,” you heard as you ate your jello from your hospital bed, Jack raising an eyebrow at you. “How’s detox going?”

“Uh, shitty,” you said with a smile. “No heart damage thankfully. They were worried about that. I get to go home soon if my tests come back good.”

“My mentor can’t die. It’s kind of against the rules,” said Jack, grabbing a chair and taking a seat next to your bed. “I’d have to have Bobby be it.”

“I wouldn’t put that pain on you, Jack,” you said with a smile.

“As your friend, I have to ask...” said Jack, pursing his lips.

“I had a bad day and the department thinks I took the drugs myself?” you asked, Jack staying motionless. “I didn’t do this to myself, Jack. Somebody...I don’t know what happened but I did not do this.”

“I know,” said Jack, grabbing you unopened Jello pack. “Just tagging on you like a good friend.”

“Rookie…” you scowled, Jack simply ripping the lid off and sliding it back to you. “Good boy.”

“I know,” he said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving on his shoulder, spotting Sam poke his head in your room. “Hey. What’s up, Sammy?”

“Just checking on you,” said Sam, biting his bottom lip. “Jack, you keeping her company?”

“Uh huh,” said Jack, looking back over his shoulder. “Hey Sam. You’re the one that found Y/N, right?" 

“Yeah,” said Sam, Jack cocking his head.

“Why’d she have her coat and shoes on?” asked Jack. “It was the middle of the night.”

“She probably went to go get help. I heard her leave. Or her head was so messed up cause of the drugs she didn’t realize what she was doing and walked right past me,” said Sam, Jack nodding his head. “I bet you’re sticking to home cooked meals for a while, aren’t you kiddo?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jack standing up with a stretch. “Leaving already?”

“I’m on duty,” said Jack, fixing his uniform back into place. “Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. I’ll leave you in Sam’s hands.”

“Jack,” you said giving him a smile. “Thank you for believing me.”

“Get some rest while we figure out who did that to you,” said Jack, squeezing your hand. “Later Sam.”

“Jack,” said Sam, waiting until he was gone to shut the door. “How you feeling today?”

“Alright,” you said, Sam sitting down with a sigh. “Sorry about trying to beat the shit out of you. And shoot you guys.”

“You weren’t yourself,” said Sam with a grin. “I heard from Dean. Well...more like I got a cryptic text from him.”

“Let’s see it,” you said, Sam sliding his phone over.

**_Ear Heart. K. Metal. Turnpike. 1. Sunrise. +1._ **

“He heard my heart was okay. He wants to meet at the old metal sheet factory off the turnpike at 1am. The plus one means bring me along,” you said.

“Really?” asked Sam, watching you bite your bottom lip.

“He used to pass me notes in Chem lab sophomore year. You couldn’t use your phone or anything in there so he used to send them in code to be a smartass. Some of them were pretty hard to figure out,” you said, shrugging your shoulder.

“You up for getting discharged today?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. Let me get a nap in and then you can bust me out of this place.”

  


**12:53 am**

You woke up in the passenger seat, Sam quietly listening to the radio. It was dark at the entrance to the factory, no lights on at the abandoned facility.

“How’s he want us to find him? This place is huge,” said Sam.

“Mr. FBI can’t figure out the obvious?” you asked, pointing at the map by the front entrance spray painted with a big red arrow.

“Hey, I worked at a desk in my apartment. I’m not used to this like you,” said Sam.

“Yes, because I’m an expert on secret government operations. All those parking tickets and noise complaints I spend 99% of my time on really prepare you for this kind of thing,” you said.

“What’s the other one percent?” asked Sam.

“Drunk and disorderly. Lawrence ain’t that exciting Sammy,” you said, Sam getting the hang of following the arrows deeper into the complex.

“I know. I mean now it is. Just…you know...” said Sam, giving you a sideways glance. 

“You be the brains and I’ll be the muscle,” you said, patting your thigh holster. “Nothing’s going to happen to you Sam.”

“I’m not scared,” said Sam with that same tone as when you and Dean watched The Strangers with him one night years ago. “I’m not!”

“Well, I am,” you said as you came to the last of the arrows. “Fear isn’t a bad thing. Don’t let it cripple you is all.”

“Who taught you that? Bobby?” asked Sam.

“Dean. He was trying to get me to kill a spider in the bathroom once,” you said with a smile, hopping out of the car.

“Did it work?” he asked.

“Nope. I thought it was still sweet,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes.

“Let’s go see what Dean found out,” said Sam as he followed after.

You took the lead inside, Sam sticking close by as you attempted to get your bearings. The place was huge with far too many angles to even attempt to cover. You dug your flashlight out, looking around for any sign of Dean.

A whistle caught your attention, following it to the left down a hall, poking your head in what used to be a conference room, Dean giving you a wave in the dimly lit room.

“Hi guys,” said Dean, Sam peering over top of you to spot a computer on the table.

“Dean,” said Sam, Dean’s gaze landing on you.

“You alright?” he asked. You shrugged and took a seat, Dean seeming to understand forgiveness was something that would take a long time, if it even happened.

“You figure out who tried to kill me?” asked Sam, your head cocking. _That’s_ why he’d been so nervous. Whoever drugged you hadn’t intended to kill you. It was meant for Sam. 

“Concretely, no. But my best guess is our friend at the FBI. They must know you work for them too. If it had worked it would have taken you out and I’m still the fall guy who just thinks his little brother overdosed until it got pinned on me. I need to know your team, Sam. Who do you work with, who knows you’re working this case? Tell me everything,” said Dean, tapping his fingers against the file.

“I can’t tell you that,” said Sam, Dean nodding his head with a scoff.

“Y/N almost _died_ , Sam. I don’t care about your policy and protocol bullshit. I need to know about your team,” growled Dean, clenching his fist.

“I can’t tell you that because I only know _one guy_ ,” said Sam. “My handler. I don’t know other investigators unless it’s a large case which this one isn’t.”

“Then tell me about him, your handler,” said Dean, taking a deep breath.

“His name is Cas. I don’t know if it’s his first or last. He sits in DC behind a desk. He’s kind of weird but not crazy weird,” said Sam.

“Tell me everything you know about this guy. Everything.”  
  


 

Two hours later you had your head resting on your arms, sleepy eyes watching the boys bicker back and forth over bits of information about Cas. He had a clean record, two pet guinea pigs and a on and off girlfriend named Meg for the past nine years. He seemed like any other guy with a desk job to you.

“Maybe we should see who Cas reports to,” you mumbled, yawning loudly in the next beat. “Cas doesn’t know anybody on your team, Dean. Maybe his boss does.”

“Sam doesn’t know Cas’ boss, Y/N,” said Dean.

“Well, I _thought_ you could hack into anything you wanted. Cas is Sam’s boss. They work in the same department so they have the same HR department code, right? Look up the code and figure out who else has it. Hell, look at an org chart. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” you said, scratching your head. “Super secret agents can’t figure out basic business operations.”

“You’re angrier than I remember,” said Dean, Sam stealing Dean’s computer and typing away on it.

“How’s your head feeling?” you asked, Dean shrugging.

“Okay. Mild concussion but-” he said, your palm smacking him across the face.

“Glad to know you’re feeling better. Asshole liar,” you growled at him, shaking your hand out.

“I deserved that,” said Dean, rubbing his cheek.

“Y/N, when you stop hating everyone, you mind reminding me when Jack joined the department?” asked Sam.

“I don’t know. About two years ago I guess,” you said, Sam spinning the laptop around.

“Jack Kline works for the FBI apparently. He’s a field agent,” said Sam, sighing towards Dean. “Under a different boss but same department as me. Internal Investigations.”

“Why would they have two guys investigating the same case? Not to mention keeping you in the dark about each other,” you said, Dean shaking his head as he stared at the screen. “Or the fact that Jack definitely isn’t a guy who sits behind a desk.”

“Look, Jack has known who Sam is this whole time,” said Dean, pointing out something on the screen. “He’s not in investigations like Sam. I mean he is but he’s a field agent too. Based on the timing of when he’s gotten here, he’s probably been watching Sam for years.”

“What’s that mean?” you asked, Sam running his hands over his face.

“It means we need to talk to Jack about what he’s doing in Lawrence stalking my little brother.”  



	4. Chapter 4

“Okay, I don’t think Jack is  _ stalking _ me, Dean,” said Sam. Dean raised an eyebrow, anger simmering to the surface.“If he’s a field agent, maybe he was on protection detail for me.”

“If he was, he did a shitty job. They would have told you about him though,” said Dean, crossing his arms, unclenching his hands when you glanced over at him.

“Considering how convoluted this thing is, maybe they would have, maybe they wouldn’t. I don’t think we should just run up to Jack and start questioning him,” said Sam. “We don’t know-“

“I disagree,” said Dean. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. “We grab him. I can do it with Y/N as backup no problem. We bring him here and politely ask him what the fuck he’s up to. If he doesn’t want to talk-“

“If you kidnap an FBI agent, you realize you’re giving your mom’s killer exactly what he wants, right?” you asked, releasing a large sigh. “There’s his ammo to bring you down. One truth will make the whole thing look viable. Not to mention he’s our friend, Dean.”

“Fine. You two figure this out then,” said Dean, standing up and storming out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. You waited a few minutes, Sam looking into Jack’s background with a scowl on his face before you took off in search of Dean. Fifteen minutes later you found him sitting on the roof, knees tucked up in his chest as he watched the sun start to rise.

“Hey,” you said softly, rubbing a hand up and down his back.

He didn’t speak, opting to keep his mouth pressed in a thin line.

“We have to be smart about this Dean, that’s all. We don’t want this to go south for you,” you said, taking a seat beside him. “We’ll figure out what Jack knows the right way.”

“What’s your secret? You work for the CIA or something?” he said dryly, resting his chin on his knees.

“I’m a junior detective for the Lawrence county police department that took up a leave of absence this week. I was a street cop before that and before  _ that _ , I was fresh out of college, working at starbucks while my boyfriend was going to the police academy. I’m not made for this life Dean,” you said. He turned his gaze away from the red and orange swirling across the sky, his face turning softer than you were used to lately. “What happened to you, Dean?”

“Why did you become a cop then?” he asked, ignoring your question. You sighed, tucking your own knees up. Baby steps was how you’d have to this with him then.

“You scared me at the bank that day. I had no one, no strong boyfriend I could go home to and make me feel better, make me feel safe and protected. I wanted to know what happened to you too, try to help you when I found you again. I applied to the department and the rest just happened on it’s own. I had to know it wasn’t something I said or did that day. If I’d done something differently, that you wouldn’t have gone down that path,” you said. You shrugged your shoulders, Dean tossing a small rock down to the ground, watching it fall before bouncing on the pavement.

“If I could go back, I never would have said yes,” said Dean, shaking his head. “I would have been a normal cop and I wouldn’t have screwed up your and Sammy’s lives. You two weren’t supposed to do this. He was supposed to be a lawyer. You were going to get out of this town, with me. I threw you away for nothing. I did the wrong thing four years ago and it is way too late to fix it.”

“It was messed up how you went about it, but Sam and I are adults. We made our choices just like you made yours to try and get some justice for your mom. It’s not wrong to care, Dean,” you said.

“If we figure out who the FBI guy is, mom’s killer, then what? Where’s the proof? What happens to you and Sam?” asked Dean. “It didn’t matter if-”

“Sam obviously has  _ some _ sort of proof otherwise he wouldn’t be working this case. He needs a name to tie it to is all I’m guessing. It’s not your job to worry about us either, Dean. We’ll figure out what we want when this is all said and done but until then, we’re sticking with you,” you said.

“First, I always worry about you two. Second, you should really, really hate me more than you do, you know,” said Dean. You smiled as you ran a hand up and down his back.

“I’m a woman, Dean. I can hold this over you for the rest of your life,” you said with a teasing smirk. “Not that I’m planning on it. You’re different now.”

“Different how,” he said, turning his attention back to the pinks and oranges swirling across the few lingering clouds.

“You’re angry. Sad. You hate yourself for starters. A part of me thinks you don’t expect to make it out of this alive. A part of me think you believe you’d deserve that,” you said. “By the way, you don’t.”

“Always saw right through my bullshit, didn’t you?” he said with a sad smile. “Odds are I end up dead or in prison or one of you dies and all of this was for nothing.”

“When we get through all this in one piece, you and me are going to sit down and have a long talk. You screwed up. Everybody does. Let’s move forward from it. We can...” you said, a car turning into the complex off in the distance, Dean perking up as he watched it, the car following the arrows straight down to where Sam was. “Who the hell is that.”

“I don’t know but Sammy’s alone and unarmed down there,” said Dean, getting to his feet. Both of your guns were out as you headed down the stairs inside, Dean holding up a hand when you heard other footsteps in the building. It amazed you how he made his movements silent in an instance like that, forcing you to go slower to keep quiet and lose him as you headed for Sam. You heard something crash and break in the conference room ahead, foregoing your cover and sprinting in that direction. Turning the corner, you saw Jack and Dean pointing their weapons at one another, Sam sat in a chair in the middle with no idea what to do.

“Sam, get behind me,” said Jack, never once taking his eyes off Dean. “Sam!”

“Jack,” you said, lowering your gun, Jack briefly glancing at you. “Everybody put their guns down before one of you boys makes a mistake.”

“I’ll put mine down as soon as I know Sam is safe,” said Jack. “Sam, let’s move. Now.”

“Jack,” you said, Dean staring down the young man, probably debating whether he should try to graze him. “Jack we know you’re FBI. Tell us what you’re doing here.”

“...Sam goes for a early run everyday. He didn’t go this morning. I tracked his phone here and assumed someone had taken him,” said Jack, squinting at Dean. “Still not sure.”

“Jack, I’m here because I want to be,” said Sam, holding up his hands. “Everybody put their guns away, please.”

“Dean,” you said. He shot you a look but gave you a nod, slowly lowering his gun. “Jack?”

Jack glared at Dean before tucking his gun back in his pants, glancing around the room, ripping the computer out of Sam’s hands.

“What the hell are you doing looking at my profile?” asked Jack, quickly shutting it. “That’s-”

“You boys are all in the FBI, I’m not,” you said, taking a seat. “Now, why don’t you tell us why you are protecting Sam?”

“Sam’s investigating a high profile case. I was assigned to do undercover protection detail for him in the event the person he was investigating caught on and attempted to kill him. Standard procedure,” said Jack.

“Good job on that by the way with the drugs,” said Dean with a short smile.

“I made a mistake. My job was to protect, Sam, not Y/N. I suspect you showing back up in town is what created the attempt on Sam’s life in the first place,” said Jack, smiling at Dean.

“How old are you?” asked Dean, lifting his chin. “12?”

“I  _ look _ young. I’m not brand new to this,” said Jack.

“He’s barely 21,” said Sam, Jack scrunching up his face. 

“Good,” said Dean, relaxing his shoulders. 

“Good?” asked Jack. “We just besties now?”

“You were a little kid when our mom died, Jack. It means you weren’t the one that killed her so Dean doesn’t have to suspect you,” said Sam. “Or shoot you.”

“Wait, you’re working Mary Winchester’s murder? John’s wife?” asked Jack, catching you hum. “I know who killed her.”

“You do? The killer’s FBI. How-” asked Dean, Jack shaking his head.

“I read the file at the station one day, read Sam’s notes, the timeline…” said Jack. “Without a doubt, John Winchester killed Mary.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Our dad killed our mother? Our dad?  _ John Winchester? _ ” asked Dean, Jack nodding his head. “Well that must make me the fucking Easter bunny then.”

“I’m serious,” said Jack.

“Well I ain’t laughing,” said Dean, clenching his jaw.

“Nine times out of ten, a person knows their killer,” said Jack.

“It wasn’t  _ him _ ,” growled Dean, moving his chair back, your hand catching his keeping him in place.

“Yes, it was!” said Jack, throwing his hands up.

“I swear to God kid, you say that  _ one more time _ and I’ll-“

“Dean,” said Sam, so quietly you barely heard it from across the table. “I think...he’s right.”

“Sammy. It’s  _ dad _ ,” said Dean, running his free hand over his face. “He was a street cop most of his career, then a detective, then chief. He didn’t work for the FBI. When the hell would he have even done it?”

“Yeah he  _ did _ work for them,” said Jack, holding up a hand, pointing at the laptop in front of Sam. “Look it up.”

“Tell that little brat to shut up for two minutes,” grunted Dean, stealing the computer away, typing away before his mouth twitched at whatever he was reading.

“ _ The little brat _ would suggest the big brat cool it,” said Jack, Dean glaring over the screen at him. “Your dad’s the bad guy, not me.”

“Dean?” asked Sam, Dean shrugging and shoving the laptop aside. 

“He was in the FBI. So what,” said Dean. “It proves nothing.”

“So you don’t think he was smart enough to wait until you were 15 to kill your mother?” asked Jack, raising an eyebrow that made Dean squeeze his hand around yours so hard you had to let go. “Until you hit your growth spurt and were strong enough that he could pin it on you? You had the means and the opportunity to pull it off. A smarter, more talented little brother that got more attention than you, a mom that cared more about him than-“

“That is not true,” spat back Dean, swallowing hard, taking deep breaths.

“The motive of jealous brother? John could twist that  _ real _ easy given what you’ve been up to the past four years. You’re angry, emotional...he’s probably been setting you up to take the fall since you were old enough to walk,” said Jack. “He planned this for years.”

“Kid, you’re this close to-“

“Dean!” you shouted when he stood up. You expected his anger to turn on you, for him to start shouting his head off.

But he only forced his mouth shut and took a deep breath through his nose, sitting back in his chair.

“The old Dean still in there?” you asked, Dean nodding his head slowly. You reached under the table to hold his hand, Dean staring at his lap, running his thumb over the back of your hand. “Jack. Remember you’re talking about their parents. A little finesse in your phrasing, okay?”

“Sorry,” mumbled Jack.

“Whatever,” said Dean, your hand squeezing his until he grunted. “Sorry I was going to beat the crap out of you.”

“I could take you,” said Jack with a smirk.

“In your dreams rookie,” said Dean, giving one back, his anger gone like that.

“Guys are so fucking weird,” you said, turning your attention to Sam. He was spun around in his chair, elbows on his knees, head between them. 

“Sammy?” asked Dean, much more gently now, Sam lifting his head slowly. “Don’t freak out on us now. Just because Jack said those things doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“Do you remember the time Bobby was supposed to take us to the zoo? I was five I think. I had that awful cold. You promised we’d both go again real soon and you went with Bobby on your own?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. I got you that little moose stuffed animal. You loved that thing,” said Dean with a big smile.

“Mom and I were home sick. Dad came home in the middle of his shift. I remember because I asked if he would get those sore throat suckers for me and mom on the way home. He was weird, just said I wouldn’t have to worry about it. I don’t remember a whole lot but mom looked at him funny and a neighbor stopped over with some soup soon after that and he want back to work. He brought home my suckers later on and I never thought about it again until just now,” said Sam.

“Sam...that’s beyond circumstantial...that’s…” said Dean, rubbing his free hand through his hair, pausing mid way. “You slept in my room for a week after that, with your little moose. You didn’t have a nightmare. You were scared of something but wouldn’t tell me.”

“I can’t remember what of but whatever it was, it freaked me out,” said Sam. “Bad. Like reoccurring nightmare to this day bad.”

“You honestly think…” said Dean, Sam nodding his head. “But you were there in the house. That doesn’t make sense. You would have been a witness.”

“Unless I was supposed to...you know...” said Sam.

“Sammy, stop,” said Dean, holding up his hand, staring down his little brother. “We don’t know anything.”

“It fits. The timing and-“

“What’s the motive?” asked Dean. “There is none. No way would dad hurt you or mom.”

“Dean,” you said, cupping his cheek with your free hand. “There was that one time-“

“I told you, we were messing around like guys do and I hit my face accidentally. Dad didn’t do it on purpose,” said Dean.

“He does know they teach cops how to spot a lie, right?” asked Jack. “Especially when someone is being-“

“It was an accident,” said Dean. “None of it makes any sense so until I see anything but hard proof, and I mean hard, I ain’t jumping on the bash on dad train. Y/N, you’ve worked for him for  _ years _ , known him longer than that. You can’t possibly think dad is involved.”

“I want to know what Jack does before I start going gone way or the other on this thing,” you said, Dean nodding his head, Sam sighing. “Sam, I believe you. But that was years ago and you said it yourself, you can’t remember everything. I mean, I know you guys don’t have the greatest relationship with your dad but we should be smart about this.”

“Y/N, can I speak to you privately,” said Jack, both Winchesters whipping their heads in his direction. “It’s delicate and I’d rather tell Y/N first on account she is better at...phrasing things.”

“I’ll be right back,” you said, Dean tugging on your arm when you stood up. 

“Be careful,” said Dean.

“It’s Jack,” you said, Dean’s jaw tensing.

“Please be careful,” said Dean. You gave him a smile and he dropped his hand away, Jack leaving the conference room first, moving down the hall until he found an old locker room, poking his head around.

“Jack,” you said, leaning back against the rusty things, Jack far more relaxed away from Dean but making sure you wouldn’t be overheard all the same. “They aren’t eavesdropping. Now do you want to tell me what you can’t say in there?”

“I work internal investigations,” said Jack.

“Yeah. I got that. You’re a smaller version of Sam with a gun,” you said, Jack giving you his best bitch face. “Oh look. There’s my friend again.”

“Yes, I am a mini Sam,” said Jack rolling his eyes, sitting down on a bench, rubbing his hands on his legs. “Dean thought he was working an undercover gig to get in with his mom’s killer, right?”

“Yes,” you said.

“Sam was investigating the team that assigned Dean this job, the team where someone on it in the FBI was Mary’s killer, right?” asked Jack.

“Yes and your job is to make sure nobody tries to kill Sam while he does that,” you said.

“Yes and no,” said Jack, looking over his shoulder at the door. “I’m supposed to protect Sam. I’m also supposed to do the footwork part of the investigation he can’t. Mary’s killer had to be in Lawrence that day. A local. There was only one person that fit the bill. John Winchester.”

“Where’s your proof Jack?” you asked.

“DNA. Only DNA found in the home was that belonging to the Winchesters. It was a mess according to the crime scene photos. No way to do that and not leave something behind. It had to without a doubt be a Winchester,” said Jack.

“Sam and Dean were kids,” you said.

“I know. If there’s only three possible suspects, two of them wouldn’t go through the trouble of setting themselves up to try and clear a name when they were getting away with it, would they?” said Jack. “It had to be John.”

“I need hard evidence, Jack,” you said. “Dean won’t believe conjecture, even if it fits.”

“Find me a murder weapon,” said Jack, lowering his head with a deep breath. “It was a kitchen knife. One was missing from the butcher block. A mistake a kid in a rush might make. Not one a guy framing his kid would.”

“He’s their father. I’ve had how many dinners with the guy. He’s my boss. He’s  _ your _ boss. You know him,” you said.

“If this were anybody else, why would you be denying it? It’s because you don’t want to hurt your friends, right?” said Jack.

“How do you know they were FBI, the person who killed Mary,” you said, crossing your arms, kicking at the ground.

“They understood FBI protocol...they put out an anonymous distress signal in Houston, pulled in officers from all over the state, including Lawrence. John Winchester didn’t show up until two hours after everyone else,” said Jack. “He played the part well but there were a few that suspected him.”

“Why didn’t they do anything then?” you asked. “They just let their buddy go around and kill his wife?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. Maybe you should have asked them before one had his brakes fail. One had his gun jam out in the field. One fell in the shower. Three weird deaths of the three guys that thought maybe something was up? I’m sure that was all just a coincidence,” said Jack. 

“He did it,” you said, running your hands through your hair.

“Likely. Timeline fits. John retired from field work, went local cop route. Stayed on as a consultant for us. Who do you think pushed for Dean’s team to come together in the first place? He did once Dean was in the academy. He never suggested Dean by name but implied things. When Dean went ‘bad’ John cried wolf that he couldn’t watch Dean do that, hung up his fed coat and let the pieces fall into place,” said Jack.

“Sending me in, the feds...what was that?” you asked.

“Dean punched his ex-girlfriend. Shows a history of violence. Not too much of a stretch with his rap sheet to mommy murder when he was a teenager,” said Jack.

“Fuck,” you said, sliding down to the ground, hands on your head. “Fuck, Jack.The stuff with Sam…was that real?”

“I don’t have a motive, Y/N so I don’t know. I have a whole lot of if this happened then that happened but I really need a murder weapon, a confession, a jacket with Mary’s blood, something. You know this family better than anyone else,” said Jack.

“Is Sam safe?” you asked.

“Someone tried to kill him a few days ago so probably not,” said Jack. “I don’t know if Sam’s always been a target or he was getting close. I don’t know.”

“I want somebody with Sam 24/7. Either you or me or Dean, understand?” you said.

“You don’t think you’re a target?” asked Jack. “We’d be stupid to discount you as one.”

“I’m a junior detective, I can handle-” you said, Jack standing and on top of you, stealing your gun from your holster easily, backing up with a cock of his head.

“You can handle what now?” asked Jack, your gun in his hand.

“He’s...older. He’ll be slower,” you said, Jack rolling his eyes as he handed your gun back over. “You aren’t babysitting me.”

“I didn’t say we had to. Just be careful,” said Jack with a smile. 

“I have to be the one to tell the guys about John, don’t I,” you said.

“Probably a good idea,” said Jack. “I have to head into work soon before someone thinks something is up. I’ll call you later to meet up. We can use this place as a base.”

“Alright,” you said, following him out of the room. Jack paused before he got to the door, stopping you in your tracks.

“Did...did you know Dean found his mother?” asked Jack.

“No,” you said. “He only spoke about that day once. I figured it was better not to bring it up again.”

“Read his statement when you get a moment to yourself,” said Jack. “It’s what made me start looking at John in the first place. It’s not pretty but it’s useful. I don’t think he realized it, that he even realizes it now, but both those boys are afraid.”

“How’d you get assigned this case?” you asked. “Investigating John Winchester.”

“My dad. He was the one that had his brakes fail. I was in the backseat,” said Jack, a sad smile on his face. “Not a fun day.”

“Jack,” you said, grabbing his arm. “You really…”

“My dad kept notes. He didn’t work with John often but he knew something was off with him, especially after Mary,” said Jack.

“You’re doing this out of revenge,” you said, Jack shaking his head.

“I want some justice for my dad just like those guys for their mom,” said Jack with a sad laugh. “Go team murdered parents.”

“Yeah,” you said, giving Jack a smile. “You better get going. Bobby’s going to make you run laps outside the building if you get in after him.”

“You’re joking,” said Jack.

“I wish I was,” you said, Jack taking off down the hall.

“I call you later!” he said, barging through a couple doors, a car revving to life outside.

You took a few minutes to let everything settle, walking down to the conference room, the boys going through an old supply cabinet, pulling out notebooks and pens. Apparently they had the same idea about making that your base.

“He took off quick,” said Dean.

“He’s got work,” you said, holding out your arms. “Both of you, come here.”

“Why?” asked Sam, slowly walking over, letting you hug him, Dean uncertain on it as he tensed up, getting in close though.

“You two are about to have a very bad morning, Sammy, that’s why. Take a seat guys. We might as well get this over with.”


	6. Chapter 6

You figured telling the boys about Mary, going through the files on her murder, on Jack’s father, on the fake distress call, all of  _ that _ would be the worst part about telling them their father killed their mother.

It was nothing compared to the silence when you finished speaking. Sam, the tallest, biggest guy you’d ever met, a strong man that could handle anyone and anything if it came down to it...he was as white as a ghost, staring at the table, scrunching up his face in a million different combinations. 

“He wants to kill me,” breathed out Sam, Dean’s hardset jaw relaxing when he saw Sam looking to his right, scared puppy dog eyes that belonged on a little kid on full display. “Wh-What’d I do wrong? Why’s he...Dean, what’d I do? Why…”

“Shh, Sammy,” said Dean, grabbing Sam and pulling him into his chest, running his hand up and down his back. “You’re alright. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

“You were right. Mom...it was my fault,” mumbled Sam, Dean grimacing and dropping his head on Sam’s shoulder, holding onto his little brother tight.

“No Sammy. None of that was your fault. Mom was not your fault,” said Dean, shushing Sam. “I’m so sorry I ever said that to you. I didn’t mean it. One of the worst days of my life was saying that...but it’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna protect you, Sammy. I’m not going to let him…”

Dean scrunched up his face, burying his head in Sam’s shoulder as you turned and left, giving them their space to get things out without your prying eyes around.

  
  
  


“Hey,” said Dean, poking you on the shoulder from where you were half asleep on the ground outside. “Time for you to go home and get some shut eye.”

“Are you guys okay?” you asked, Sam walking through the doorway with a yawn. He shared a look with Dean, both boys smirking. “Stupid question.”

“We’re...us two are going to be okay,” said Sam, patting Dean’s back. “The dad stuff might take some time.”

“Y/N...Sam needs to stay here with me,” said Dean, glancing at Sam’s car. “We need you to take Sam’s car back to his apartment and make your way home from there. Unseen preferably.”

“You think John’s going to...go after Sam again,” you said, Sam looking anywhere but at you, Dean nodding. 

“Sammy doesn’t have field experience or training. I’m going to spend the day showing him a few things after we crash for a few hours but-”

“He needs you. I get it,” you said with a smile as you stood up. “I’m a big girl, boys. I can handle myself.”

“I know. I also know you need to be extremely careful. We don’t know if you’re a target. But we can’t go and investigate, not with dad around,” said Dean.

“I’ll find something on him,” you said. “I’ll get it.”

“We never...Sam and I and Jack...we never found anything,” said Dean.

“Sam, your house key to your dad’s place is on your car keys, right?” you asked. Both boys shook their heads. “I’m investigating this now. I have to do the footwork for us. I’m going in that house.”

“If dad got a hold of you…” said Dean.

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” you said. 

“We can’t risk you, Y/N. We should all get some sleep for a few hours and then meet back up at eleven to go over a game plan, alright? We’ll trash the signs out front and crash in the breakroom until Y/N swings back later,” said Sam. 

“I like that plan much better,” said Dean, Sam tossing you his car keys.

“Okay,” you said with a sigh. “Get some rest boys. I’ll bring lunch by for you.”

  
  
  
  


It’d been about seven months since you were last in the Winchester home, John hosting some kind of work dinner thing that made you question in the morning why people drank Tequila in the first place. You slipped in through the front door like you belonged, the Winchesters thankfully not ones for having nosy neighbors. The place looked the same as when you’d last been there but something was missing in the home.

It was cold. The air was cool but just the space itself felt off, not that the Winchester home was ever particularly inviting. You remembered the first time Dean invited you over it was the same way. It was your winter break of Freshman year. Dean had finally gotten up the guts to ask you out after nearly a whole semester of this weird undercurrent between you two. You met at orientation and became such natural friends it was only a matter of time before one of you couldn’t stand the constant butterflies.

You’d been dating a few weeks and Dean invited you to come up for dinner, spend the weekend with him and his little brother before you drove back to school together. It seemed like a great idea at the time. The image of a tiny Sam Winchester opening the door still made you laugh, back when you were the same height and he had a little grin on his face.

_ “You must be Dean’s girlfriend,” he said, opening the door with a smirk. “I can take your coat.” _

_ “Ah, so you’re a polite little shit, Sam,” you said back, Sam’s eyes widening a moment before he looked away shyly. “Dean’s a polite big shit. Runs in the family. I’m Y/N.” _

_ “Dean’s at the grocery store,” said Sam, taking your coat and setting your bag down by the base of the stairs. “Our dad had to work.” _

_ “That’s okay,” you said with a smile, picking up your boots when you were finished getting them off, Sam showing you where to put them. “You been having fun having Dean back home?” _

_ “Yeah, I miss him,” said Sam, whipping his head around. “Don’t tell him I said that.” _

_ “As long as you don’t tell him I told you he misses you too,” you said, Sam cocking his head. “Our secret.” _

_ “He does?” asked Sam, picking up your bag, carrying it up the stairs with you on his tail. _

_ “Duh. He talks about you all the time,” you said, poking your head in the bedroom Sam entered, finding it much tidier and clean than you were used to seeing in Dean’s dorm. “You should come visit us at school sometime. I know Dean would love it.” _

_ “Yeah, maybe we can do that,” he said, perking up.  _

_ “Sammy!” you heard Dean shout from downstairs, Sam taking off and out of sight before you even got to the landing. “Where’s Y/N?” _

_ “Back here,” you said with a wave, Dean smirking as you walked into the kitchen. “Sam’s been a very gracious host.” _

_ “I knew he would be,” said Dean, bending down and kissing you, biting his bottom lip when he turned away. “Drive up safe?” _

_ “Yup. I’m starving though,” you said, Sam pulling out a pot of the cabinet. “Woah, I’m not that starving, Sam.” _

_ “Dad’ll get off shift soon. We’ll have dinner done by the time he’s home,” said Dean, ripping open a package of chicken. “Sammy you doing the green beans?” _

_ “Unless you want to,” said Sam, filling up the pot with water. _

_ “That’s really sweet, you two cooking dinner for you dad,” you said, helping put away the other groceries as best you could. _

_ “Yeah,” said Dean with a smile. “Sammy I got the beans. You show Y/N how to help set the table up for me.” _

Only now could you see that it wasn’t sweet. The prim and proper was all too perfect. Dean had kept you and Sam out of the house as much as possible that weekend and he started inviting Sam up to college with you. Once you moved in together, Sam started staying for weeks at a time and then the whole summer. It was too obvious now that those boys didn’t like being in that house, even if they never said anything.

You went straight up the stairs, catching a clock that it was the middle of the morning shift, giving you at least an hour before you had to leave in case John came home for lunch. You went down to the master bedroom but stopped and spun around, going back to Dean’s bedroom. If he wanted to pin anything on Dean, it’d likely be in there. 

But it was Dean’s room. You’d helped him pack up the space years ago, knew there wasn’t a spot in there Dean wouldn’t have seen at some point or knew about.

You knelt down on the ground and shined your flashlight through the heat vent, nothing but dust and cobwebs in there. You opened up the empty closet, popping open the attic crawl space at the top, nothing up there either but a bit of installation.

“John where would you hide implicating evidence…” you said, eyes darting around the room, cocking your head. “Better question, where would a scared  _ 15 year old _ hide implicating evidence…”

You glanced at Dean’s bed, staring at the bedframe. You ducked your head underneath, shining your flashlight at the supports, the head and foot boards.

A door opened downstairs and slammed shut, a sigh in the air. You pulled your legs and body under the bed, clicking off your flashlight in one quick motion as you held your breath.

“Stupid fucking coffee spills,” muttered John in the hall, his footsteps going past the open door. You heard him fumble about in the master bedroom, stopping in the hallway a minute later. You swallowed, watching his feet turn in the direction of Dean’s room.

You tried to keep your breathing even when he stepped inside, throwing a hand over your mouth when he headed for the bed. 

And he sat down.

And then laid down.

You were so fucked.   
  
  
  


After five minutes, you decided either John knew you were there or he’d fallen asleep. After twenty, you were pretty sure he was out cold, for some reason deciding that was a good place for a nap in the middle of his work day.

His phone rang out of the blue, John grunting awake as he answered.

“What?...Bobby...Jack’s a good cop, just work with him...sure, he’s bubbly like a fresh puppy but Y/N is taking a leave of absence...because she nearly died a few days ago Bobby that’s why...she’s tough...the Dean thing might have messed her up and I own that...I want her to take some time off and get her head on straight...yeah...mhm...I’ll be back soon,” said John, sighing as he hung up the phone. “Jackass.”

John swung his legs over the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees, back to you. You stared wide eyed as he leaned down, staring under the dresser, reaching a hand under the small gap there.

“Come on you piece of shit,” said John, reaching his hand around, pulling back with an oof, a padded envelope with frayed duct tape on the ends in his hands. He held it with both hands, peeling open the top part, enough for you to see there was something of substance in it with the way it bulged, definitely the size and shape of a knife. 

All he had to do though was lean his head down another inch and glance right. If it was a knife, you weren’t sure you’d be able to get your gun out in that position before he used it on you.

John sat back on his heels and flapped the tape back down, standing with the envelope, the front door slamming shut a minute later. 

You were out the back door and two streets over before you stopped shaking.

“Y/N,” said Sam when you came by the metal factory at lunchtime, lips pursed at the sight of you. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I got to tell you guys something.”   
  
  


“Never do that again,” said Dean, finding you in the break room on a couch, hands in your lap. “Understand?”

“Your dad’s got the knife. It  _ had _ to be the knife,” you said. “Maybe he’s going to dump it.”

“Or plant it,” said Dean as he sat beside you. “Don’t ignore me. I want you to promise you’ll never go into something on your own like that again. Especially considering you said you wouldn’t.”

“I’m not a kid,” you said.

“I can’t see something bad happen to you,” said Dean, resting his hand on your thigh. “Okay? Us...and Jack...we’re a team so we got to decide these things together so we don’t get hurt.”

“Okay,” you said.

“Sammy and I were thinking this place might not be the best cover for us. It’s too big. There’s plenty of old farmhouses around no one can sneak up on,” said Dean. “Might be better.”

“Just find a safe-” you said, your phone ringing. “It’s your dad.”

“Just act normal,” said Dean, nodding before you answered.

“Hi John,” you said, trying to keep your voice light.

“Hey kid. I uh, I know last time we talked it was a bit heated and then the overdose and everything...I swung by your apartment to check on you but you weren’t home. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said.

“Yeah, John I’m good. I went for a drive, get some fresh air is all,” you said.

“You want to grab lunch? I’m paying,” he said. You glanced at Dean who reluctantly nodded his head.

“Sure. I can meet you at Ernie’s at noon if that sounds good with you,” you said.

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon kid,” said John. You hung up, Dean rubbing the back of his neck.

“Be careful,” said Dean.

“I know,” you said, kissing him on the cheek as you stood up, Dean staring up curiously. “Text me when you guys got a new hideout.”

“Y/N,” said John with a smile as you sat down at the booth he was in. “How you doing?”

“Better. Still a bit groggy from everything,” you said, John smiling.

“If...if you took the drugs yourself...that’s okay, kid. I’m not mad. I won’t turn you in,” said John. “I know I sent you out in the field and Dean attacked you and...I’m sorry. If he’s bad, he’s bad and even if he’s my son, I’ll put him away for everything he’s done.”

“I didn’t take the drugs, John,” you said, John looking you over, looking for signs you lying. “I’m telling the truth.”

“You don’t think...Dean could have…” said John, your face scrunching up. “You never know, Y/N.”

“I don’t know who did it,” you said, John nodding his head, seemingly satisfied for now. “I need some time off still to-”

“No, no, take all the time in the world. I know why you got into this job in the first place,” he said. “If you want out...I won’t make you stay.”

“Give me some time,” you said, John doing a damn good job of making you question all the pieces that fit together so well for being Mary’s killer. You forced yourself to remember that morning, taking a deep breath. “How’s Bobby treating Jack?”

“Oh, now that is a whole other story,” said John with a laugh. “So he called me this morning…”

  
  
  


“Y/N,” said Dean, a hand on your back as you ducked into the simple two story home the boys were squatting in. “How’d lunch go?”

“Good,” you said. “Jack meeting up with us tonight?”

“He texted and said he’d be here fifteen minutes ago,” said Dean, peeking his head outside.

“He’s not from around here, probably taking back roads so he isn’t seen,” you said, looking out at the dark road in front of the house.

Three hours later, Dean was ready to send out a search party.

“Relax,” you said, Sam sighing as he flipped shut a notebook. “Worrying won’t help.”

“Something’s wrong,” said Sam, tapping his fingers on the table. “That kid is never late.”

“I know. But-” you said, your phone ringing. “John, what’s-”

“Someone attacked Jack. He’s in ICU. I know you’re on your leave but I need you to come in kid,” said John.

“I’ll be at the hospital as soon as I can,” you said, Dean and Sam’s faces dropping. “How bad is he?”

“They aren’t sure he’ll make it. He was stabbed several times,” said John. “The weapon wasn’t at the scene so we’re still looking for it.”

“I’m coming as soon as I can,” you said, hanging up the phone. “Jack’s in bad shape. Touch and go from the sounds of it.”

“What happened?” asked Dean.

“A stabbing,” you said, Dean shaking his head. “I have to go. Jack’s my friend.”

“He has to know, dad has to know that Jack is investigating him,” said Dean.

“I’m the only one that isn’t FBI, the only one that isn’t officially on this thing. I have to try and get any information I can out of Jack,” you said.

“Sam, go with Y/N,” said Dean. “You can stay with Jack at the hospital and keep an eye on him if they’ll let you.”

“I thought Sam needed to stay here with you,” you said.

“He’s my big brother, not my keeper,” said Sam, grabbing his coat. “Let’s go.”

“You two…” said Dean, glancing back and forth. “Nobody get killed alright?”

“We’ll try our best not to.”


	7. Chapter 7

When you got to the hospital, the entire department was there, lingering around the hallways, the side eyed glances you’d gotten just days earlier when people came to visit you all but gone, replaced with apologetic looks.

“Someone is targeting my people,” said John, speaking to the most senior members of the department. “I want everyone on high alert and…Y/N. Sam.”

“Hey dad,” said Sam, John pulling him into a hug, Sam tense at the contact but he could easily pass it off as being worried for his friend. “I heard about Jack.”

“He had an Uncle listed as his emergency contact but we haven’t been able to get in touch with him yet,” said John. “I don’t think the kid has much in the way of family.”

“Yeah he does,” you said, glancing around, John nodding. “What happened?”

“We got a call about an unconscious stabbing vic just down the street from his apartment from a neighbor coming home around 8. He lost a lot of blood. Serious injuries. He might not wake up,” said John, glancing toward the room down the hall.

“Can I see him?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said, waving Sam along with you. “Just be prepared.”

You grimaced when you turned the corner into his room, seeing Jack hooked up to a million different machines, bandages everywhere on his body.

“Y/N, you have no clue how those drugs got in your system. Someone nearly killed Jack tonight,” said John, turning to Sam. “If you see or hear from your brother, you call the police immediately, understand? Someone is attacking officers and we just helped a federal investigation on him. I can’t think of anyone else that would-”

“Fuck you,” said Sam, storming off down the hall, John going after him. You sighed, knowing Sam was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, no matter how pissed John got him.

“Hey, Jack,” you said quietly, walking over beside the bed, doing your best to think of him as a vic and not a friend. As soon as you got that perspective, you nearly lost it.

His injuries were  _ identical _ to those on Mary. Maybe the cuts hadn’t been as deep. Maybe John didn’t have time to finish what he started but it didn’t matter. You’d stared at her file enough the past day that you knew whoever attacked Jack killed Mary.

“Hang in there, Jackie,” you said, patting the top of his head. “We’re going to get him. I promise.”

Out in the hall, Sam looked like he’d settled down, John looking calmer as they spoke quietly.

“Everything alright out here?” you said. 

“Dean is our number one suspect. I’d like if you were on protective duty for Sam,” said John, Sam rolling his eyes. “Something you want to say, Sam?”

“No, sir,” muttered Sam, glancing at you and then the ground.

“Keep him in your sight at all times,” said John. “Please.”

“What are you going to do?” you asked.

“Bobby and the senior boys will work the scene. Everyone else we’ll send out on a manhunt. Check old buildings, out buildings, abandoned businesses...Dean’s got to be around here somewhere,” said John.

“I’ll keep Sam safe,” you said.

“Take him back to your apartment. Sam, you do exactly what Y/N says, got it?” asked John.

“Yes, sir,” said Sam, walking towards the elevators without you, John scoffing.

“He has no idea how hard this is for me. He just thinks I hate his brother,” said John. “I’m only trying to keep him and everyone else safe.”

“I’ll talk to him,” you said, John nodding his head. “Can you post someone here at the hospital? For Jack?”

“Yeah,” said John. “We’ll make sure whoever did that doesn’t come back.”

“Thanks,” you said, meeting Sam at the elevator, Sam shaking when the doors were shut.

“Y/N,” said Sam with a croak.

“We’ll stop your dad, I promise,” you said.

“What if Jack dies?” he said in a whisper. “He should have been with us. The runt was no match for dad. Hell, our dad killed his dad.”

“Sam,” you said, grabbing his hand. “I need you to calm down for me. The doctor’s will do what they can for Jack and he’s tough. We need to stay focused, keep ourselves safe and give Dean a heads up to find a better hiding place.”

“How are you so calm?” asked Sam.

“I’m going to take care of you, that’s why,” you said, Sam taking a few deep breaths. “We aren’t going back to my apartment Sam. Your dad must have gotten the knife to go after Jack with.”

“We know exactly where it is,” said Sam. “But wouldn’t he have made it look like Dean did it?”

“Yeah, which is why we need that knife. If he doesn’t have it, he can’t incriminate Dean,” you said. “At least not concretely.”

“How do we stop dad?” asked Sam.

“One problem at a time, Sam,” you said. “Now buck up. We got a job to do still.”

  
  
  


“Where the hell is it?” asked Sam, both of you staring dumbfounded at Dean’s room.

“I don’t…” you said, the sound of a door opening downstairs shutting you both up.

“It’s me,” said Dean, holding up his hands as you went to the top of the stairs. He lowered them when he saw you cocking your head. “Dad’s not going to check his own house for me.”

“Go to my apartment,” you said. “Hide out there. It’s safer.”

“Any luck finding it?” asked Dean.

“No. He might have it on him still. Go now Dean. We’ll do one last check and meet you there,” you said. Dean was out of the house quickly, Sam sighing as he lay on Dean’s old bed. “Sammy, we should get going soon too.”

“We both know Dad was after me. You could walk away from this,” said Sam, sitting up with a short smile. “Just go and be safe from our crap.”

“Sam,” you said, grabbing his hand, pulling him to his feet. “I got crap too. I’m not leaving my boys.”

“Do you have a father that murdered your mother? Tried to murder you?” asked Sam with a scoff.

“Actually, yeah,” you said. Sam blinked down at you, shaking his head. “Not the time or place but yes Sam. I understand. Now let’s go.”

  
  


Sam was quiet the whole way back to your apartment, Dean poking his head out from your bedroom with a tiny wave when you got there.

“Your apartment’s nice,” said Dean.

“You climb up the fire escape?” you asked. Dean nodded, Sam going straight for your liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle. “Easy Sammy. We’re still on red alert.”

“Did she tell you her dad’s a psycho too?” said Sam, Dean pursing his lips.

“A while ago, yeah,” said Dean. “I told you mom was your fault to keep you away. I told her the same thing pretty much.”

“Only difference is…” you said, reaching for the bottle, keeping it away from Sam.

“You don’t have to tell this story, Y/N,” said Dean.

“It’s Sam,” you said with a smile. “It’s okay.”

“So what did happen?” asked Sam, hopping up on your counter, watching you slide into a barstool, Dean doing the same.

“My dad just snapped one day. We never saw it coming. He brought us down to the basement, killed her, tried to kill me and...I killed him before he got the chance,” you said.

“You...you killed him?” asked Sam.

“I might have been just a kid but a gun’s a gun,” you said. “It was self-defense but...shit stays with you.”

“But you seem so...normal,” said Sam.

“I wasn’t going to let that asshole ruin my life,” you said. “You guys aren’t going to let your dad ruin yours either.”

“Sammy, get some rest,” said Dean, stealing his undrunk glass away. 

“Dean,” he said, Dean pouring the alcohol back in the bottle, putting it on the shelf. “Dean.”

“No booze from anybody. We got to be sharp and that means rest. You two have barely slept in days,” said Dean, grabbing Sam by the arm and tugging him over to your couch. 

“Seriously? Now you’re going big brother on me?” asked Sam.

“Yup,” said Dean, pushing Sam down on the couch, pulling off his shoes and tossing them by the front door. He grabbed a blanket from nearby, threw it over Sam and moved one of your kitchen chairs behind your door. 

“Dean, come on, I’m-”

“Sleep, Sammy,” said Dean, ruffling his hair, shutting off the light. “Come on, Y/N. Your turn.”

“Night, Sam,” you said, walking down the hall to your room, Dean smiling at you. “I don’t need to get tucked into bed.”

“I was hoping you’d let me crash in here with you. I haven’t slept on a mattress in over a week,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, patting his old side of the bed before you moved around, shredding your clothes and throwing on your pajama shirt, Dean cocking his head when you spun around to find him in his boxers and shirt. “What?”

“Is that mine?” he asked.

“Your shirts were always comfy,” you said, crawling into bed, Dean laying on top of the covers. “Dude, get under.”

“Is that appropriate?” he asked.

“We used to have sex. All the time. We can sleep under the same covers, Dean,” you said. He shifted around until he was underneath, his leg brushing up against yours as he chuckled. He moved his foot on top of yours. 

“Your feet are still freezing,” he said.

“Some things didn’t change,” you said. He nodded and pulled his foot away, sliding to the edge of the bed, turning his back to you. “I forgive you.”

“What?” he said, turning onto his back, twisting his head to face yours.

“I forgive you. For what you said. For what you did. I understand and I forgive you,” you said.

“I don’t accept,” said Dean, your hand catching his arm. “I’ll never forgive myself for destroying your lives.”

“If you’d never joined the FBI, Sam and I wouldn’t have done what we did. Your dad would have gotten away with what he did and maybe one day you’d wake up with Sam gone and your dad having pinned it all on you. What would we have done then?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” said Dean, staring up at the ceiling, quiet for a long time before he spoke again. “Why do you always have to do that? Make me feel better when I just want to feel like shit?”

“It’s a skill,” you said, finding his hand and interlacing your fingers with his. “This morning, before Jack showed up...I wanted to talk to you...about us.”

“What about us?” he asked, not bothering to look at you. 

“Did you maybe want to try again?” you asked.

“You know the answer to that,” said Dean.

“I asked what you want,” you said.

“I told you,” he said.

“No you didn’t,” you said.

“I am not the same person I was,” he said.

“Neither am I,” you said.

“You don’t know me,” he said.

“Deep down I do,” you said.

“Do you have any idea how screwed up I am? I’m not normal anymore,” he said.

“When have any of us ever been normal? We fit because we aren’t normal. I can deal with your crap. You can deal with mine,” you said.

“I can’t protect you,” he said.

“It’s not your job,” you said.

“Yes, it is,” he said, finally twisting his head around. “No one ever protected you.”

“No one protected you,” you said. “Are we going to do this all night, Dean? I get it. You’re different. But why did you come to me in the first place? You trusted me. If you’re going to protect me, I’m going to protect you.”

“Jack’s dying in a hospital bed. Sammy’s on his hit list. You might be next. Sam was right. I never should have brought you into this,” said Dean, swallowing thickly. “Leave and be safe. I’ll take care of Sam. We’ll find a way to catch dad. It’s not your fight, Y/N.”

You flung yourself out of bed and went to your closet, Dean sitting up, probably half-hoping you were packing up a bag and leaving. Instead you pulled out a box you’d debated throwing away half a dozen times but never could. You tore off the lid, pulling out the envelope and letter on top, tossing them over at Dean.

“Do you remember that?” you asked, Dean squinting his eyes in the dim light.

“Where did you find this?” he asked, shoving the letter back in the envelope, handing it back over.

“You packed up so quickly you forgot about that,” you said, putting the letter back in its place. “I didn’t find it until a few months later when I moved out. It was behind your dresser.”

“It’s just a letter, Y/N,” said Dean.

“No. It’s not,” you said. “Why would you write a letter like  _ that _ and hide it from me? You were never good at the big romantic speeches, that’s why. You had to write it down, cross things out, make it perfect until you had it memorized and could pull it out when you finally got up the courage to ask.”

“It’s been four years,” he said. “People change.”

“I bet you could recite it word for word right now,” you said.

“I’m not-”

“You were in love with me. You wanted to marry me. You wrote a damn speech, Dean. You’re right, it’s been years. All I am asking, all I want to know right now, is if you want to start over. Do you want to try and be happy again?” you asked.

He was rigid, eyes focused on his lap but the smallest nod of his head made you crawl back into bed with him.

“Alright,” you said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. He was like putty, the tension out of his body once and for all, his head resting on your pillow, nose brushed against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I know, baby,” you said, Dean wincing like the name burned him. “It’ll be okay.”

“We need to sleep,” he said, nuzzling his body closer to yours like he could hide away in it.

“Go ahead. I’ll be here when you wake up.”   
  


 

Except when you woke up about six hours later, Dean was shaking you awake, hands covered in blood.

“Y/N,” said Dean, voice trembling. “S-Sammy…”

You shot out of bed, Sam taking ragged breaths on your blood covered couch.

“C-Call the police,” said Dean, shoving your cell phone in your hands. “G-Get him s-safe.”

“What-”

“I heard, I thought S-Sammy was up, so I got up to check and I saw...it had to be dad. T-Through the fire escape. He took off,” said Dean, throwing on his clothes. “I gotta run. I gotta...I gotta stop dad. No matter what. I gotta stop him.”

“Dean,” you said, watching as he ran over to Sam, running a hand over his head.

“You’re gonna be okay, Sammy,” said Dean. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“You t-think I’m gonna d-die or something,” coughed out Sam with a smile. “Go. Y/N’s g-got this. You just stop…”

“I will,” said Dean. “Y/N. Watch your fucking back until I end this once and for all.”

“Dean. If you kill...you’re giving him what he wants…” you said.

“I’ll catch him. Call an ambulance. Now. I’ll...I’ll call you when I got him cornered.”


	8. Chapter 8

“How’s he doing?” you asked as soon as the surgeon came out of the operating room.

“He’ll make a full recovery,” he said, relief flooding through you. “His injuries weren’t as extensive as the other stabbing victim. Mr. Winchester needs to rest and recover here for a few days but his injuries aren’t life threatening.”

“Can you tell me if you saw any similarities between the two?” you asked.

“Mr. Kline’s injuries were deeper. At first we thought there may have been a second weapon involved but it appears, based on Mr. Winchester, your culprit makes smaller incision firsts before they go back over them with more force, cutting deeper on the second go around,” he said.

“Any ideas on the kind of blade? A surgical scalpel? A-”

“My best guess would be your run of the mill kitchen knife, something with a sharp point and slightly serrated edge, like for cutting meat,” he said.

“Thanks, Doc,” you said.

“Your other vic, Mr. Kline, made some improvements today,” he said. “I expect he’ll be just fine.”

“Thank you,” you said, stopping short. “Doc, could...could you not share that information with anyone else?”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I asked,” you said, the Doc squinting his eyes. “At least hold off on sharing it for a few hours.”

“A few hours, Detective,” he said with a head nod as he walked away. About ten minutes later you were in ICU, checking on Jack when you heard John storm down the hall.

“Y/N!” he shouted at you. “Get your ass out here!”

“John,” you said calmly as you pulled Jack’s door shut. “This is a hospital. Jack needs to rest and-”

“I told you to watch him!” barked John.

“I secured my apartment and the culprit got in anyways,” you said, John’s face growing redder by the second. “I spoke to the doctor. Sam will be fine.”

“I don’t give a fuck! My son almost  _ died _ because you couldn’t do the one job you had!” he shouted. He grabbed you by the arm and tugged you down a quiet hallway into an empty room, chest heaving. “Dean...I didn’t want to believe it either but my Sammy almost died. I need to know that if it comes down to it, you’ll do what needs to be done.”

“We don’t shoot on site,” you said.

“You’re right. We don’t. But Dean is…” he said, taking a deep breath.

“Dean’s what, John?” you said.

“A killer. There’s something...wrong with him. I’ve known it since he was a small child. He was different. For years I wouldn’t face it,” said John. “I thought about taking Sam and Mary away from him but couldn’t do it. Then...then I came home one day and he’d snapped.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” you said, John squeezing his eyes shut.

“I wish I was. Maybe they got in a fight, maybe he just finally acted on it but she was dead and Dean was on the phone with the police,” said John. “And I helped him cover it up.”

“You what?”

“He left the weapon by her body. I grabbed it, cleaned it up and hid it in his room, told him I’d take care of everything because I couldn’t confront the fact that he did it. So I helped protect him and tried to keep him in line ever since,” said John.

“I know what you did to those boys John,” you said, cocking your head. “I know how you treated them.”

“If being the strictest asshole on earth kept Dean in check, I’d do it,” said John. “It worked too. He was normal for a while. Until he went away to school, until he found you. Kid, for years I waited to get a call that he’d done it again...to you.”

“You’re saying, Dean, killed Mary? That he tried to kill Sam? Went after Jack?” you asked, crossing your arms. “He did all that?”

“Yes. He just...he doesn’t remember he did it. He...the knife was still where I put it years ago yesterday morning. I moved it. After he went after you-”

“He didn’t,” you said, John shaking his head. “John, he wouldn’t.”

“He just snaps, it’s not like it’s really him when he does that shit. I tried...I tried to convince myself that I was so backwards about Mary, that it had to be someone else that I called in a favor with a friend. They used to have an investigation on Mary’s killer going, but somehow Dean ended up on the team and I think he’s just used it as an excuse to take care of those urges. It’s just too much for him now and he’s just trying to wipe away everyone on the team, get rid of Sam or me or you,” said John.

“Yeah, right,” you said. “Oh, that sounds totally legit, doesn’t it?”

“Y/N, I’ve spent so long trying to tell myself he wasn’t bad. I should have helped him but I can’t go back and change it now. I just need your help to stop him before he hurts someone else,” said John.

“Dean’s not a killer,” you said.

“Fine. I’ll deal with him,” said John, rolling his eyes. “Try not to let Sammy die in the meantime.”

“John,” you said, John out of the room before you could get out another word. “Goddamn Winchesters.”

You sat down on one of the beds, pulling out your phone to give Dean the heads up his dad was hunting him.

_ “I told you to watch him!” barked John. _

_ “I secured my apartment and the culprit got in anyways.” _

You stopped typing to Dean, trying to think of how someone could have gotten inside. There was obviously the front door but even if they’d managed to pick the lock and deadbolt, you didn’t remember the chair not being where you’d left it propped up there. The only other option was your fourth floor bedroom window next to the fire escape. But the odds that someone slipped in past both you and Dean unseen, attacked Sam and slipped back out…

Then there was the fact Dean had blood all over him.

**_If you can, meet at dad’s asap._ **

You stared at your phone, shaking away the doubt John had tried to plant there and headed for the Winchesters.

  
  
  


The house was dark when you got there. The back door was open, the door down to the basement open and a small light shining up.

You pulled out your gun, quietly going down the stairs, whipping around the corner with it raised, Dean and John both in front of you, Dean sighing.

“Take a seat, Y/N. We have some things to get out in the open.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Y/N. I said to take a seat,” said John. He nodded at the empty chair beside Dean, Dean’s fists clenched as he tried to break free of the zip ties around his wrists and ankles, panting as he struggled.

“No thanks,” you said, pointing your weapon at John.

“I told you, he’s a killer,” said John. “I’m taking care of this one way or the other.”

“Y/N, I didn’t-” said Dean, coughing when he got a hit to the face. 

“Don’t lie to her! You tried to kill her!” shouted John.

“You tried to kill Sam. You almost killed her,” said Dean, spitting out blood, glancing to you. “Y/N, I didn’t...I wouldn’t…”

“Why’d you stab your little brother?” asked John, pointing his gun at Dean. “Why’d you sneak in her apartment and try to kill him? Why didn’t you try to kill her too?”

“Y/N, help me,” said Dean, turning his head away when John brought the gun closer.

“You thought you were going to run off with her and everything would be alright again? You thought you could run away from me? You thought you could cuddle up with this one and pretend you were the good guy? Pretend you wanted to start over, huh?” asked John.

“He is the good guy,” you said. “Put the gun down John.”

“He tried to kill Sam and Jack and you and-”

“And how the hell would you know we were  _ starting over _ unless you were listening in on us,” you said.

“Ah, fuck,” said John, rolling his eyes. “Always with the fucking technicalities. Shit. If you were a little bit dumber you could have lived through this you know.”

“Sorry. It’s a good thing you’re dumb enough for both of us,” you said.

“Get in the chair, Y/N, before I blow his fucking head off,” said John, Dean looking his father up and down, swallowing hard. “Don’t act surprised. You’ve known this was coming for years.”

“Why?” asked Dean. “What did we ever do to you?”

“Nothing,” said John. “By the time I realized your mother and I had our problems that I wanted to resolve a certain way, I realized I had to set up a fall guy. And you existed so there was that issue to deal with as well. You were always a little jealous I gave Sam more attention, done purposefully of course to piss you off, but you just...you were still a good kid. I had to set you up for them both, wait until you were old enough to be angry and strong. I was so damn careful to set it all up and then Sam just had to go to a friend’s after school. The one fucking time the kid didn’t ask permission. The little prick. When he didn’t show up and I heard you coming home, I had to improvise. The plan was always to pin it your way but until I could find a way to get Sam too I had to wait. Unfortunately, I had too many eyes my way and Sam got bigger and it was more of a problem. A federal investigation was way more complicated but I could keep my hands off it and let you fall into it easy once Sammy was taken care of. Sucks about that Jack kid. Good cop. At least he isn’t going to pull through.”

“Actually, he’s going to be just fine,” you said, John glaring at you. “Did I forget to tell you about that?”

“You got three seconds before I-Ow!” shouted John, dropping his gun as you hit his shoulder once and then his leg, John growling as you kicked his gun away.

“You okay?” you asked, pulling out a knife, sliding through Dean’s ties.

“Not really,” he said. “Sammy going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, looking Dean over, noticing the marks all over him. “We’ll see if we can get you bunked up with him.”

“You had to know it was a trap, right?” asked Dean, looking over as you secured John, pulling out your phone to call for backup. “You didn’t think…”

“He tried to make me think it was you but he sort of messed up there,” you said.

“How? I mean the way I woke you up...I wouldn’t blame you if the thought crossed your mind,” said Dean, rubbing his wrists, glancing down.

“You’d die before you ever hurt Sam. Or me,” you said. “Then that text message. I mean, it was like he wasn’t even trying. All direct. No code to decipher. Slacker.”

“A stupid fucking text message!” shouted John. “That’s what-”

“Yup. Let’s get you out of here, Dean.”

  
  
  


“Hey, Bobby,” you said, grabbing a cup of coffee from the hospital vending machine. Bobby looked like he’d aged about five years in the span of as many hours. You handed the cup over to him, grabbing another for yourself.

“I always knew something was up…” said Bobby. “How those boys doing?”

“Well,” you said, leaning back against the machine. “Jack woke up. Doc said he’s going to be okay. Sam and Dean were arguing over who got to have the cherry jello last time I saw them. They’ll all be alright after some rest.”

“I heard from a Castiel at the FBI. Those boys’ case is wrapped up. I’m pretty sure Dean’s getting fired for going off the grid though,” said Bobby.

“I’m pretty sure none of them really want to stay on. Sam was talking about preparing for law school and Jack was wondering if he could get a street cop job around here. If the new chief would be down for that,” you said.

“If the runt brings in donuts and not those stupid bagels you did he can be senior fucking detective,” said Bobby, a smile tugging it’s way onto your face. “Yeah. He’s got a job here. What about you and Dean?”

“We’ll figure it out. I talked to the Doc about a nursing gig. I was supposed to join a few years back but...shit happened,” you said.

“That’s a word for it,” said Bobby, sipping on his coffee. “Black.”

“Like your stone cold heart,” you said with a grin.

“I’m going to miss you around the station,” he said with a smile. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Oh, I hear anything from Jack I’ll come down there and personally kick your ass,” you said.

“Yup. You’re going to be alright,” said Bobby, his phone going off. “Oh great, it’s the guinea pig guy again.”

“Later Bobby,” you said, heading back down the hall towards the boys room, poking your head in to find it empty. You walked towards the other wing of the floor to ICU, giggling when you heard Dean giving flirting tips to Jack.

“That nurse with the blonde ponytail? She’s totally into you,” said Dean. “Work up that injured puppy dog thing.”

“Dude, let the poor boy relax,” you said with a smile, wrapping your arms around Dean’s shoulders. “And it’s so the redhead that’s into you, Jack.”

“How you doing?” asked Sam, picking at a bandage while you scowled. “You try being wrapped up like a mummy and see how much fun it is.”

“Uh, I win that fight,” said Jack, waving down at his body. 

“Boys,” you said, pulling over a chair, sitting beside Dean, his head resting on your shoulder. “I’m okay. So when can I start breaking you mutts out of this joint?”

“I can go home today,” said Dean with a snicker. “Suckers.”

“Who knows how long,” said Jack, glancing around.

“Forget about that. How about you guys tell me what kind of food you want me to sneak in here for you. Pizza?” you asked, a room full of smiles popping up. “Pizza it is.”   
  
  
  
  


**Two Months Later**

“Officer,” you said, Jack stepping into your new condo with a smirk. “Shoes!”

“I’m on duty,” he said, slipping off his boots, padding through your living room past Dean, going straight to your kitchen.

“That steak sandwich is mine and I will destroy you if you even think about touching it,” said Dean, giving Jack a wave. 

“You want me to eat Y/N’s crappy salad instead?” he asked.

“How about you go to your own damn house and insult the contents of your fridge,” you said, Jack pulling out a package of deli meat with a smile. 

“But your house is in my patrol area,” he said with a smile, starting to fix himself a sandwich, your front door opening as Sam burst in. “Sam, you want a sandwich?”

“Starving,” said Sam, walking right into your kitchen, Dean holding up his hands.

“I told you we shouldn’t have given them extra keys,” said Dean.

“Your condo is closer to school than my place,” said Sam, Jack sliding over condiments to Sam while he worked. “Speaking of which, what’s lazy ass doing over there?”

“I came home for a quiet lunch with my girlfriend when the two stooges showed up,” said Dean, hopping up off the couch.

“That must make you the other stooge,” said Sam with a cocky smile.

“Shut up,” said Dean, reaching into the fridge for his sandwich.

“Can I have some?” you asked, Dean holding out half to you. “Thank you baby.”

“Why’s she get some?” asked Jack. “We help saved your life too.”

“Oh I rode that gravy train into the ground,” you said. “It’s just because I’m cute, isn’t it?”

“You’re all such dorks,” said Dean, grabbing your salad and tossing part of it on a plate. Sam’s jaw was nearly dropped. “It’s for you, dumbass.”

“Oh thank god. I thought we might have to have your head looked at for a second there,” said Sam, grabbing a spot at the table, Jack grabbing a soda, sliding into his normal spot, all three chowing down, talking about work and Sam’s classes.

“Hey, you’re zoning,” said Dean, waving a hand in front of your face. “You alright?”

“Yup,” you said, sitting beside him, nibbling at your lunch. “I’m perfect.”

Ten minutes later Jack was off, Sam saying he’d be back for dinner, Dean chuckling when they were gone.

“I’m really glad those two didn’t die,” said Dean. 

“You want me to go with you today?” you asked, Dean shaking his head.

“You ask that everyday, you know,” he said. “It’s therapy, not prison.”

“Any day you ever want me to go, I will,” you said, Dean kissing your cheek. “I know you don’t really like going.”

“It’s growing on me,” he said with a shrug. “He’s the guy you went to as a kid and you turned out to be not too much of a weirdo.”

“Go,” you said, smacking him on the chest, earning a chuckle. “And thanks.”

“I used to go for you. Now I go for both of us,” he said, stretching as he stood up with a smirk. “And thank you.”

“For not eating most of your sandwich?” you teased, grabbing your uneaten slice and putting it back in the fridge.

“For everything,” he said. “I’ll see you soon sweetheart.”

“See you soon baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series now complete. I hope you enjoyed! <3


End file.
